


Stay With Me

by Kaijuscientists



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bookshop Fire, Comfort, Crowley Needs a Hug (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Men Crying, Mental Breakdown, Panic Attacks, aziraphale does too lbr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 07:42:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20206162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaijuscientists/pseuds/Kaijuscientists
Summary: It’s the first night of the rest of their lives, but they’ve been through a lot to get here.





	Stay With Me

_“You can stay at my place, if you like.” _

When Crowley takes the first step off the bus that had conveniently detoured to London, Crowley extends his hand. Hoping and praying that Aziraphale will take it. He needs the angel to stay with him, to come home with him. If Aziraphale decides to leave him right now, well, it’s not something he’s sure he could handle at this particular moment. It doesn’t bear thinking about for too long. 

Where would the angel even go, he wonders, the book shop is gone.

Aziraphale slides his hand into Crowleys, finally with no hesitation. He holds on tightly, meeting Crowley’s covered gaze with a small smile. Crowley returns the smile, and if Crowley wasn’t wearing his sunglasses, the angel would be able to tell that it doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s seconds away from falling apart, Aziraphale’s hand gripping his own feels like it’s the only thing holding him together. 

The apocalypse had been stopped, or at the very least averted, so they have some breathing room. Or at least a night of it, before their respective offices come for them. 

Crowely is very aware that he’s trembling, half because he’s terrified of what’s to come, and half because the adrenaline that has been flooding his veins for the entire past 24 hours is finally leaving him. The adrenaline crash and countless miracles he’d performed leave him feeling stretched thin and wiped out, exhausted in a way he hasn’t ever felt. 

The door unlocks for him as they approach, and closes politely after they enter. With a snap of his fingers and the last of his energy, he raises a few demonic wards, something that would slow down any intruders to give them time to get away. 

When he turns around, Aziraphale is standing in the middle of his living room, looking just as lost as he feels, and the torrent of emotion that he’d been holding back spills over. 

Aziraphale is alive.

Hell didn’t get their hands on him. He’s not dead.

And he… he chose him. 

In 3 long strides, he’s crossed the room, can’t stop himself from touching Aziraphale. Who’s to say that he’s not dreaming this. He had to make sure this is real. 

Crowley raises a trembling hand, his fingertips brushing over the angels skin as he cups Aziraphales cheek. His thumb runs gently over his cheekbone, and when he his eyes meet Aziraphales, so full of concern, the dam breaks and he can’t hold his emotions back any longer. He falls into Aziraphale, wrapping his arms around the angels waist and burying his face into his neck. 

Remnants of the angels cologne filter through his nose, and he breaks. “Aziraphale.” He says, voice shaky and muffled into the angels neck.

“Oh, my dear, dear boy.” Aziraphale says softly, wrapping his arms around Crowely, the demon melting into him at the contact. 

“Thought you were dead.” Crowley says, his arms tightening around the angel, afraid to let him go. He’s half convinced that he stops touching him he’ll disappear. That he’ll wake up in a world that doesn’t have Aziraphale in it anymore. That’s just not a world worth living in. “Couldn’t find you.”

“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale replies, letting his head rest upon Crowley’s hair. “It was an extremely inconvenient discorporation.”

“I was sure it was hellfire.” He continues, his breath catching in his throat. He lifts his head to look into aziraphales eyes, tears spilling over. “I lost you.”

“I’m here now. I came back.”

“Angel, I can always tell where you are, for the first time in 6000 years,” He says, desperation dripping off his words, his hands moving to grip Aziraphale by his arms. Yellow has overtaken his entire eye as he stares into Aziraphales eyes, wants him to understand exactly what he felt in that moment, the agony at the prospect of being alone. “I couldn’t feel you.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Aziraphale says, his own voice wavering, guilt weighs heavily on him. He hadn’t meant to take an unplanned trip to heaven, but it’s obvious he’d hurt Crowley deeply, even if accidentally. Hot tears well up in his eyes, and it takes all his strength to not break down with Crowely. Crowley had been so strong for him, throughout the entire apocalypse ordeal, that it was the least he could do. “We’re both here.”

“It doesn’t feel real.” Crowley cries, gasping for air around shallow breaths. He lets his head fall to rest on Aziraphales shoulder. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“You’re not.” Aziraphale says, his heart breaking, he’d seen his demon emotionally distraught before, but this was on a new level. Aziraphale runs his hand up Crowley’s back, sliding into his hair, rubbing gently at his scalp. “You’ll never be alone again.” 

Crowley chokes on sob, what little air he had getting caught in his chest. He tries to press himself as close as he can to the angel, his arms coiling back around him. He could meld and become one with Aziraphale, and it still wouldn’t be close enough for him. 

Aziraphale is at a loss of what to do to help Crowley. Anything he says, with hopes to bring him comfort seems to upset him further. He’s becoming increasingly worried the demon will fall unconscious if he continues to work himself into a state. 

”Just let it out,” Aziraphale says, trying to make his voice sound calm, even though inside he was panicking. “but do try to take some deep breaths, dear, you’re going to hyperventilate.” 

Seconds later, Crowley’s let’s decide that they will not be supporting him anymore, buckling under his weight. Aziraphale lowers them both to the floor with a grunt, trying to manhandle the limp demon until he’s cradled, head against his chest. 

Aziraphale is still talking to him, but he can’t hear a thing past the rushing of blood in his ears, only knows because can feel the rumbling vibrations of his voice against his cheek. The world shifts on its axis though, when Aziraphale cups his cheek, holding his head tightly against his chest. Abruptly, his labored breaths catch and stop completely when the sound of Azirahales heartbeat filters though the panic. 

The human heart in Aziraphales chest beats strongly, thrumming against his ear drum. Tangible proof that he’s ok, he’s alive. The effect is instantaneous, the vice that had tightened around his chest loosening and his body tells him to breath, sucking in a gasping breath, finally getting the oxygen it craved. 

“That’s it.” Aziraphale encourages. “Breath.” It was an incredibly human thing to do, listening to someone’s heartbeat, especially as immortal beings. A heartbeat didn’t really mean much when you had been on earth for 6 millenia. But it seemed to calm Crowley in spades, his eyes, which up until that point been blown wide and yellow and staring, are now closed. “I’m alive, we’re safe.” The panic was slowly fading from his features as Aziraphale whispered comforting words, fingers combing through Crowley's hair. 

“I’m never leaving you again.” Aziraphale whispers, sometime later, when Crowley is settled in his arms. His hands trace absents patterns along his back. 

“Never letting you go, angel.”


End file.
